For Boston as for nowhere else, the death of the president was a death in the family. Word spread in an instant by Cronkite and by word of mouth. Then the city froze in place, to watch and mourn, for what seemed one endless 72-hour day.

By Eric Moskowitz

For Boston as for nowhere else, the death of the president was a death in the family. Word spread in an instant by Cronkite and by word of mouth. Then the city froze in place, to watch and mourn, for what seemed one endless 72-hour day.